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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27234520">A Sky Full of Stars</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilLostGirl/pseuds/LilLostGirl'>LilLostGirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bella Swan with a Backbone, Edward Cullen Needs a Hug, F/M, No beta we die like mne, Non-Human Bella Swan, Nonhuman Bella Swan, Omega Bella Swan, Omega Verse, Out of Character Bella Swan, Ravenclaw Bella Swan, Unique Omegaverse, Witch Bella Swan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:01:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,415</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27234520</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilLostGirl/pseuds/LilLostGirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She knew exactly what they were the moment she saw them. Her classes at Hogwarts had assured her of that. What they hadn't prepared her for was the sucker punch to the chest the moment she met Topaz-colored eyes. For a long moment she couldn't breathe and the vampire seemed just as confused as well. Her world realigned itself, using the vampire as it's anchor and the moment it had sorted itself out, Bella knew she was doomed.</p><p>She knew everything there was to know about vampires and other magical creatures, she was a Ravenclaw after all. She knew how to fight them off and their nobility system and she even knew far too much about their diet. What Isabella Marie Swan, youngest scion of not one but two Noble magical lines, did not know was why the universe had decided that Edward Cullen was her soulmate.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alice Cullen/Jasper Hale, Carlisle Cullen/Esme Cullen, Edward Cullen/Bella Swan, Emmett Cullen/Rosalie Hale, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Jacob Black/Luna Lovegood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Preface</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>What I want you to know if that I am 100% writing this for me. I am well aware that it is OOC. I'm well aware that this isn't how omegaverse works. I know. I dont want any comments about that, trust me I know. But this has been rattling around in my head for ages and I needed to get it out.</p><p>Twilight is not normally my fandom. I'm not a huge fan of the books. I think Bella is boring and Edward is brooding... I think the world is cool though, so that's what I'm writing with, the world. Everything else I don't like I'm changing. Deal with it.</p><p>Bella's Birthday has been changed to June 16th, 1981 to suit the Harry Potter Universe as well as my story.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She'd never given much thought to how she would die — though she'd had reason enough in the last few months— but even if she had, she would not have imagined it like this.</p><p>She stared without breathing across the long room, into the dark eyes of the hunter, and he looked pleasantly back at her.</p><p>Surely it was a good way to die, in the place of someone else, someone she should love. Noble, even. That had to count for something.</p><p>She knew that if she'd never gone back home, she wouldn't be facing death now. But, as terrified as she was, she couldn't bring herself to regret the decision. Coming home had brought her so many things. It had brought her a new lease on life, a reconnection with her father, and had brought her face to face with her soulmate.</p><p>That was more than she had ever dreamed to have.</p><p>The hunter smiled in a friendly way as he sauntered forward to kill her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Welcome Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Bella?” Charlie’s voice broke her out of her thoughts again, but this time she realised he’d done it because she was on the verge of crying or plunging into a panic attack–or both. Her breath came in short and shallow breaths, her vision blurry from unshed tears, and her hands were clenched together so tightly that the nails were cutting into her palm.</p><p>She inhaled sharply and held her breath for seven seconds, hearing Luna’s soft voice croon calming instructions as her brain brought memories to mind of anxiety attacks from a lifetime ago. It felt silly that all she had to worry about so long ago were bullies and her studies. She unclenched her fingers and took a cursory glance over her injured palms. The sight of the beads of blood didn’t bring the nausea it used to.</p><p>The fight within the Department of Mysteries had changed a lot, however. Overcoming her severe childhood aversion to blood had only been one of many outcomes of that dreadful night.</p><p>Charlie handed her a tissue and asked her if she required another. He didn't ask if she was okay. He knew she wasn't, and she knew she wasn't too. Instead, he asked her if she wanted to talk about it.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charlie met her as she stepped off the ramp and into the small bustling airport. Her shaking fingers were white around the handle of her carry on and she dropped it clumsily as Charlie hauled her against his chest.</p><p>If she hadn’t been so tired, she’d have felt a little awkward and stunned– Charlie and her weren’t the people who shared much physical affection. But she was that tired, and as her father held her in his arms, the inevitable tears started falling. Charlie rubbed her back while making soothing noises. “It’s gonna be okay, Bells, it’s gonna be okay.” He assured her, repeatedly.</p><p>She wished she could believe him.</p><p>Bella had attended every year of classes at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, so not being there in January felt wrong. It had been the only thing she could remember her parents agreeing on in her entire life. When word had reached Renee that Bella’s cousin, a pureblood at that, had gone missing from Hogwarts Express on her way home for Christmas. Her parents had immediately jointly decided the Hogwarts was no longer safe and had her secretly Flooed back to her home in Exeter, England. From there, they had decided the country was not safe for their daughter and they had sent her, the muggle way, to her father in the United States.</p><p>It took longer than she wanted, but she eventually pulled herself together enough to stop crying and she stepped back, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. Charlie took her small, icy hands gently in his and looked at her with serious eyes, which were perfect copies of her own. “You’re safe here.” He spoke firmly, and there was an unwavering promise in his voice and expression.</p><p>It was quiet, almost awkward, as they made their way through the airport and over to where Charlie’s cruiser was. The corners of her mouth turned down as she watched Charlie grunt and lift her trunk. One flick of her wand, and all that trouble would vanish, her trunk would either levitate or become as light as a feather. However, that was impossible now that the British Ministry of Magic had corrupted the Trace, a charm placed on underage wizards and witches to detect when they cast magic, to round up any runaways of that same age group.</p><p>Witches and Wizards like her.  She couldn’t use magic, even to save her own life, without alerting the very people she was fleeing from. She had no delusions that their capture would be a death sentence.</p><p>The long drive to Forks was silent. Charlie kept shooting her worried looks, but she only half noticed them, still devastated by the loss that was her cousin and best friend, Luna Lovegood, and also the all-consuming fear for the friends she’d left behind. Were they okay? Were the Carrows hurting Ginny? Were Harry, Ron, and Hermione succeeding in whatever it was they needed to do? Rowena only knew, and the thought made her head hurt.</p><p>“Bella?” Charlie’s voice broke her out of her thoughts again, but this time she realized he’d done it because she was on the verge of crying or plunging into a panic attack–or both. Her breath came in short and shallow breaths, her vision blurry from unshed tears, and her hands were clenched together so tightly that the nails were cutting into her palm.</p><p>She inhaled sharply and held her breath for seven seconds, hearing Luna’s soft voice croon calming instructions as her brain brought memories to mind of anxiety attacks from a lifetime ago. It felt silly that all she had to worry about so long ago were bullies and her studies. She unclenched her fingers and took a cursory glance over her injured palms. The sight of the beads of blood didn’t bring the nausea it used to.</p><p>The fight within the Department of Mysteries had changed a lot, however. Overcoming her severe childhood aversion to blood had only been one of many outcomes of that dreadful night.</p><p>Charlie handed her a tissue and asked her if she required another. He didn't ask if she was okay. He knew she wasn't, and she knew she wasn't too. Instead, he asked her if she wanted to talk about it.</p><p>“Honestly, I don’t. Not yet.” She told him.</p><p>“Okay.” Charlie nodded, and to her relief that was that.</p><p>Thirty minutes of comfortable silence went by before he spoke up again. “I found a good car for you, really cheap.” He said, and she blinked in surprise.</p><p>“On this short a notice?” She asked, surprised.</p><p>Her father scratched behind his ear, looking more like his normal awkward self as he glanced sheepishly across at her. “I was planning for it to be a present for your seventeenth birthday.”</p><p>“That’s not for nearly six months, Dad!” She laughed, surprised at sincerity and the genuine smile that spread across her lips.</p><p>He shrugged, and that was that.</p><p>A yawn escaped her, and she leaned against the car window, staring out at the surroundings. It was beautiful, here. Everything was green; the trees with their trunks covered in moss, their branches hanging with a canopy, the ground covered with ferns... It reminded her of the tamer parts of the Forbidden Forest, where they went sometimes during Care of Magical Creatures.</p><p>Although Forks may be beautiful, she would trade it for the wildness of the Forest anytime.</p><p>Eventually they made it to Charlie’s small two-bedroomed house where, parked in the driveway, was her new truck.</p><p>She fell in love at first sight. It was a faded red color, with big, rounded fenders and a bulbous cab. It looked like one of those solid iron affairs that never get damaged– the kind you saw at the scene of an accident surrounded by pieces of the foreign car it had destroyed with its paint unscratched.</p><p>“It’s brilliant!” She exclaimed, with the first real bit of enthusiasm she’d felt since arriving in America.</p><p>“I’m glad you like it,” Charlie said, his voice gruff again in his embarrassment. “Welcome home, Bella.”</p><p>Turning to face him, she smiled. “It’s good to be back.”</p><p>And she meant it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Thing with Feathers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The tiny elf owl of silvery-feathers and large auburn eyes was one of the smallest at Hogwarts and Bella would never ordinarily subject it to such a long journey, but she hadn’t had many options lest she stick out even more. They had set Crispus on his journey to Forks from the get-go while Bella had stopped home shortly in Exeter. She felt relief fill her at the sight of the tiny owl. She subconsciously brushed her fingers along harried feathers, smoothing as best as possible.</p><p>She murmured a near silent apology to the owl, not noticing as tears dripped off her chin. Crispus fluttered toward her, nuzzling her cheek and nose. Better comfort than Renee had ever managed.</p><p>Charlie made himself scarce and Bella kicked off her boots, before collapsing onto her bed into a fit of tears. </p><p>Now what?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It took one trip for both she and her father to lug her trunk and carry on up the stairs of his modest two-bedroom house and into her room. It was not a comfortable trip, but one trip nevertheless. </p><p>She had the west bedroom overlooking the front yard. The small room with its old hickory floors that creaked and silver repainted walls. Soft blue lace curtains framed the single window, and the color scheme was an intentional nod to her house. She remembered removing yellowed wallpaper and painting the room an innocuous silver with her father that first summer back from Hogwarts. There was such laugher as they flung paint at each other. She was so innocent. So removed from any danger. That was far behind her now.</p><p>Bella helped her father set the heavy school trunk by the oak desk by the window. She brushed her long mahogany hair back behind her ear and survey her small creaky bed, the single rocking chair of her childhood, and the wardrobe crammed into the far right.</p><p>She could see Renee sneering at the sigh of the tiny room. It paled compared to the richly decorated one she spent most of her Christmas breaks in, but this was hers. She had carefully etched the high ceiling border of snitches into paint. She had picked her calming lace curtains and matching bedspread. She had claimed this room in more ways than one, more than some snobbish decorator up in Exeter ever could for her.</p><p>Charlie cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously, gesturing to the empty spot in the room when there was usually a birdcage, “Will Crispus be along?”</p><p>Bella’s feet carried her toward the window before she could even open her mouth, “He shouldn’t be too far behind,” she murmured, her fingers catching the lock and lifting the window. She took a breath of the fresh air before turning back to face her father.</p><p>Charlie nodded and murmured something about bringing the cage up, stopping Bella from helping with a wave of his hand. She sighed and let him, moving to shelve her books along the shelves above her desk and stocking the quills, inkwell, and parchment where they belonged. She hung clothes and stowed mementos all before Charlie returned with the owl cage just as Crispus came fluttering through the window, looking harried and tired from his long trip.</p><p>The tiny elf owl of silvery-feathers and large auburn eyes was one of the smallest at Hogwarts and Bella would never ordinarily subject it to such a long journey, but she hadn’t had many options lest she stick out even more. They had set Crispus on his journey to Forks from the get-go while Bella had stopped home shortly in Exeter. She felt relief fill her at the sight of the tiny owl. She subconsciously brushed her fingers along harried feathers, smoothing as best as possible.</p><p>She murmured a near silent apology to the owl, not noticing as tears dripped off her chin. Crispus fluttered toward her, nuzzling her cheek and nose. Better comfort than Renee had ever managed.</p><p>Charlie made himself scarce and Bella kicked off her boots, before collapsing onto her bed into a fit of tears. </p><p>Now what?</p><p>——</p><p>Morning was a rushed affair. She didn’t take longer than ten minutes in the shower and spent not much longer tugging a warm brown sweater over her head and dark-washed jeans. Her boots took a minute to lace up, as they were the complicated kind, and her hairbrush caught on the snags in her hair since she hadn’t brushed it before bed. She had a quick breakfast with Charlie and watched him leave for the Police Station before she followed suit a few minutes later.</p><p>It was just drizzling still, not enough to soak her through immediately as she reached for the house key that was always hidden under the eaves by the door, and locked up. She couldn’t pause and admire her truck again as she wanted; She was in a hurry to get out of the misty wet that swirled around her head and clung to her hair under her hood.</p><p>Inside the truck, it was nice and dry. Either Billy or Charlie had cleaned it up, but the tan upholstered seats still smelled faintly of tobacco, gasoline, and peppermint. The engine started quickly, to her relief, but loudly, roaring to life and then idling at top volume. Well, a truck this old was bound to have a flaw. The antique radio worked, a plus she hadn’t expected.</p><p>She wondered off-handedly if Charlie knew she’d never driven before. He couldn’t have, or else she doubted her father would have let her do so. But she had seen Charlie do so most of her life. How hard could it be?</p><p>She spent an embarrassingly long amount of time trying to back the truck up before setting it down the road. It really was a minor blessing she lived in such a small town. The minor traffic didn’t test her meager skills much beyond measure. </p><p>Finding the school wasn’t difficult, though she’d never been there before. The school was, like most other things, just off the highway. It was not obvious that it was a school; only the sign, which declared it to be the Forks High School, made her stop. It looked like a collection of matching houses, built with maroon-colored bricks. There were so many trees and shrubs she couldn’t see its size at first.</p><p> She parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the door reading front office. No one else was parked there, so she was sure it was off limits, but decided to get directions inside instead of circling around in the rain like an idiot. She stepped unwillingly out of the toasty truck cab and walked down a little stone path lined with dark hedges. She took a deep breath before opening the door. Inside, it was brightly lit, and warmer than she’d hoped. The office was small; a little waiting area with padded folding chairs, orange-flecked commercial carpet, notices and awards cluttering the walls, a big clock ticking loudly.</p><p>The room was cut in half by a long counter, cluttered with wire baskets full of papers and brightly colored flyers taped to its front. There were three desks behind the counter, a large, red-haired woman wearing glasses manned one of which. She was wearing a purple t-shirt, which immediately made her feel overdressed.</p><p>The red-haired woman looked up. “Can I help you?”</p><p>“I’m Isabella Swan,” She informed her, and saw the immediate awareness light her eyes. Bella was expected, a topic of gossip no doubt. Daughter of the Chief’s flighty ex-wife, come home at last. </p><p>“Of course,” she said. She dug through a precariously stacked pile of documents on her desk till she found the ones she was looking for. “I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school.” She brought several sheets to the counter to show roe. She went through her classes for her, highlighting the best route to each on the map, and gave her a slip to have each teacher sign, which she was to bring back. </p><p>When she went back out to her truck, other students were arriving. She drove around the school, following the line of traffic. She found a spot out of the way and cut her truck’s thunderous engine to avoid drawing more attention to herself than she had to. She took a quick glance at the map again, easily memorizing the suggested routes. Her years at the intimidating castle that was Hogwarts would assure she wouldn’t be getting lost. She shoved her papers into her crossbody satchel and wrapped her Ravenclaw Scarf around her neck haphazardly, comforted by the familiar presence. She took a deep calming breath before stepping out of the truck and heading resolutely through the throng of teenagers in the direction she was sure held her first class.</p><p>Once she got around the cafeteria, building three was easy to spot. A large black “3” was painted on a white square in the east corner. She tipped her chin up in false bravado as she followed two unisex raincoats through the door. The classroom was small. The people in front of her stopped just inside the door to hang up their coats on a long row of hooks. She copied them. They were two girls, one a porcelain-colored blonde, the other also pale, with light brown hair. At least her skin wouldn’t be a standout here.</p><p>She took the slip up to the teacher, a tall, balding man whose desk had a nameplate identifying him as Mr. Mason. He gawked at her when he saw her name — not an encouraging response. He sent her to an empty desk at the back without introducing her to the class. It was harder for her new classmates to stare at her in the back, but somehow, they managed. She kept her eyes down on the reading list the teacher had given her. It was fairly basic: Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, Faulkner. She’d already read everything. That was a surprise. She had expected at least a couple of titles she hadn’t but it appeared her bookishness and time spent in the library had helped her, even in the muggle world.</p><p>When the bell rang, a nasal buzzing sound, a gangly boy with skin problems and hair black as an oil slick leaned across the aisle to talk to her. </p><p>“You’re Isabella Swan, aren’t you?” He looked like the overly helpful type. </p><p>“Bella,” She corrected, automatically. Everyone within a three-seat radius turned to look at her. </p><p>“Where’s your next class?” he asked.</p><p>She didn’t hesitate, “Psychology, with Jefferson in Six.”</p><p>“I’m headed toward building four, I could show you the way…” Definitely over-helpful. “I’m Eric,” he added. </p><p>She smiled tentatively. “Thanks.” They got their jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up. She could have sworn several people behind us were walking close enough to eavesdrop. She hoped she wasn’t getting paranoid.</p><p>“So… if this very different from England?” inquired Eric.</p><p>Bella shrugged non-committally, “It’s a bit of a culture shock. A little smaller. Rains just as much, though.”</p><p>“At least you didn’t have to change your wardrobe much?”</p><p>Bella smiled at the painful attempt at continued conversation. She didn’t feel like talking much about England, where her school and friends were. Thankfully, Eric didn’t push much further, and they made the rest of the short tip in companionable silence.</p><p>They walked back around the cafeteria, to the south buildings by the gym. Eric walked her right to the door, though it was clearly marked.</p><p> “Well, good luck,” he said as she touched the handle. “Maybe we’ll have some other classes together.” He sounded hopeful. I smiled at him vaguely and went inside.</p><p> The rest of the morning passed in about the same fashion. Her algebra teacher, Mr. Varner, who she would have hated anyway just because of the subject he taught, was the only one who made her stand in front of the class and introduce herself. She stammered, blushed, and tripped over her own boots on the way to her seat. </p><p>After two classes, she recognized several of the faces in each class. There was always someone braver than the others who would introduce themselves and ask her questions about how she liked Forks. She tried to be diplomatic, but mostly she just lied a lot.</p><p>One girl sat next to her in both Algebra and Psychology, and she walked with her to the cafeteria for lunch. She was tiny, several inches shorter than her five feet four inches, but her wildly curly dark hair made up a lot of the difference between their heights. Bella couldn’t remember her name, so she smiled and nodded as she prattled about teachers and classes. She didn’t try to keep up. </p><p>They sat at the end of a full table with several of her friends, who she introduced to her. She forgot all their names as soon as she spoke them. They seemed impressed by her bravery in speaking to her. The boy from English, Eric, waved at her from across the room. It was there, sitting in the lunchroom, trying to make conversation with seven curious strangers, that she first saw them.</p><p>She knew exactly what they were the moment she saw them. Her classes at Hogwarts had assured her of that. What they hadn’t prepared her for was the sucker punch to the chest the moment she met Topaz-colored eyes. For a long moment, she couldn’t breathe and the vampire seemed just as confused as well. Her world realigned itself, using the vampire as its anchor and the moment it had sorted itself out, Bella knew she was doomed.</p><p>She knew everything there was to know about vampires and other magical creatures; she was a Ravenclaw, after all. She knew how to fight them off and their nobility system, and she even knew far too much about their diet. What Isabella Marie Swan, youngest scion of not one but two Noble magical lines, did not know was why the universe had decided that Edward Cullen was her soulmate.</p>
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